


SHOT TO THE BALLS

by lucybeetle



Category: Kamen Rider Amazons (2016)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sex Pollen, balls, slushy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:49:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucybeetle/pseuds/lucybeetle
Summary: And Fuku's to blame!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [guava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guava/gifts).



> Idea and title/summary for this fic courtesy of Guava. (Who else?)
> 
> Please be aware that this fic contains the **sex pollen** trope.

The Amazon was lurking.

The sky was overcast; cloud cover so thick and ominous that 3:00 in the afternoon was almost as dark as midnight. Visibility wasn’t great, and because there had been more Amazon attacks than usual over the last week or so, Fukuda hadn’t had as much time as he would have liked to devote to weapons maintenance. His view was obscured by a lorry turning down the lane in front of him. Kazuya cried out, and now the Amazon was up in a tree, raising its tail over its head, now it was firing at Kazuya -

Fukuda wasn’t quick enough. The Amazon leapt into the air and disappeared over the rooftops; easily evading Fukuda’s shots. Kazuya was rolling on the ground now, clutching his crotch and howling like nothing on this earth.

Fukuda bent to check him quickly. It seemed that Kazuya had been shot in, of all places, the testicles. There were small, pinkish, spiky barbs dotted across the area like malevolent stars. At least there wasn’t much blood. Fukuda couldn’t see _any_ blood, in fact, but that wasn’t necessarily a sign of safety. Kazuya could be infected with Amazon cells.

“What happened?” That was Shidou. He was catching up to them now, the others trailing behind him. Mamoru burst into tears at the sight of Kazuya.

“Amazon shot him. I wasn’t quick enough. We have to get him to Nozama, _now_.” Fukuda helped Shidou carry Kazuya to the van. He could roll, at least, so he didn’t seem to have injured his neck or spine.

Kazuya reached out towards Fukuda, “Fuku …”

“Yes?” said Fukuda at once. Kazuya reached out his hand, and Fukuda took it, “I’m here.”

“I’m horny,” said Kazuya; then he lost consciousness.

***

“It’s my fault,” Fukuda had said.

He and the others were in the waiting room outside one of the examination rooms at Nozama whilst the doctors worked on Kazuya. They had concluded that he wasn’t infected with Amazon cells; but they were at a loss to explain some of the rather _unusual_ behaviour he’d been exhibiting since he was shot. Kazuya must have been awake, because sometimes Fukuda heard him laughing or groaning through the doorway.

“No, it’s not,” said Haruka. “That thing moved fast. You didn’t stand a chance.”

“I’m the best marksman on the team. I’ve never missed.” Whatever happened to Kazuya now, Fukuda knew he would never be able to forgive himself.

“You’re human. You can’t expect to be as powerful as an Amazon,” said Haruka.

It was almost two hours later before Kanou opened the door to the examination room inside and invited the Peston team inside. The doctors filed out; leaving Kazuya alone with his teammates and Kanou. Fukuda wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad sign.

Kanou said “As far as we can tell, he’s infected with a very strong aphrodisiac.”

“Aphrowhatnow?” said Kazuya.

Mamoru looked confused, but no one else said anything. For Fukuda’s part, he was just relieved that Kazuya was safe. It was probably just as well that they’d strapped him down to the examination table.

“He seems otherwise normal. We did not detect the presence of Amazon cells in his bloodstream, but the aphrodisiac is putting his system under strain and beginning to affect his heart rate and blood pressure. Given the circumstances, we cannot simply wait to see whether the effects will wear off. Unfortunately, from our observation, it doesn’t seem that Misaki will be able to –” Kanou cleared his throat, “take care of the problem himself.”

Kazuya burst into raucous laughter at that. Fukuda reminded himself he had no right to be squeamish. If he’d been faster, if he’d got there first, if he were half as good a marksman as he’d thought he was, Kazuya would have been fine.

After several moments of silence from the team, Shidou said “So what now?”

“He seems to be responding well to application of protein, most likely because the Amazon that attacked him thrives on it. We have concluded that the best treatment would be to cover his skin in seminal fluid, although his own has a very weak effect.”

“You don’t wanna know how they found that out,” said Kazuya, who was grinning all over his face.

“Does it have to be the … um, seminal fluid,” Haruka said. “No other protein will work?”

“It is the most effective substance we have tried. We have experimented with other proteins on him, and none of them worked nearly so well."

"And you can't just have them make up something to cure him?!" said Haruka. "I don't believe that."

"It will require extensive testing, and we have no way of knowing how long that would take. May I remind you that Misaki has limited time before his body comes under considerable strain that his heart may not be able to bear.” There was little change or emotion reflected in Kanou’s expression, although his tone faltered a little as he said “Perhaps one of you would be able to –”

“I am so glad I don’t have a dick,” Nozomi muttered.

“What’s seminary fluid?” said Mamoru.

No one answered him. Finally, Shidou said “I’m the head of the team. I should do it.”

He would have looked and sounded more cheerful had he been announcing that he was just on his way to his own execution by firing squad. Shidou looked ready to march Kazuya off to the nearest enclosed space for the fastest and most perfunctory sex of all time. Kazuya deserved better than that at least, so Fukuda stepped forward - “No. I’ll … I’ll do it. This is my fault.”

“What?” said Kazuya. “C’mon, Fuku. That thing was faster than lightning.”

“We’ve been over this. There’s nothing you could have done,” said Haruka.

Haruka meant well, Kazuya meant well, they all did; but Fukuda knew that they were wrong. He’d failed Kazuya when it counted most. He’d train harder, work harder, _be better_ so that this could never happen again. Now, though, he had to take care of the mess he’d made. That was the least he could do, both for Kazuya and the team. “Please, let me. I’d like to try.”

“Well, if you’re volunteering …” Kazuya grinned. He tried to sit up, then remembered that he was restrained, “Hey, Kanou. Let me out, would you? Fuku wants to bang me, and I ain’t gonna disappoint him.”

Nozomi made gagging noises from over in the corner.

***

Kissing someone’s moustache was never going to be comfortable. Other than that, making out with Kazuya was quite pleasant; he had nice soft lips. Under the right circumstances, Fukuda would have found him rather attractive. Unfortunately, having someone grab you and grind up against you and trying to stick their tongue down your throat wasn’t exactly conducive to taking the time to appreciate their charms. It wasn’t quite having the desired effect on Fukuda.

Kazuya reached out and gripped Fukuda’s dick through his boxer shorts, firmly enough that Fukuda yelped – “Why isn’t it cocking up?”

Fukuda didn’t think that meant what Kazuya thought it meant. “Ouch! Don’t pull on it!”

He reached down to move Kazuya’s hand away, and Kazuya pouted. “Aren’t I hot enough for you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. You’re fine. It’s not that,” Fukuda said. Kazuya was pretty good-looking, and to be quite honest, Fukuda wasn’t quite sure why his body was so reluctant to rise to the challenge. Maybe because he was already intimately familiar with every one of Kazuya’s annoying and/or disgusting personal habits. Or because they were trying to do this in an examination room at Nozama. It wasn’t exactly a five-star honeymoon suite, after all.

“I get it, OK? You’re straight.” Kazuya climbed across the trolley bed, away from Fukuda, maintaining remarkable dignity despite his own erection being highly prominent. “Not gonna work. Maybe we should get Shidou back in here after all.”

“He’s not even here,” Fukuda said. The rest of the team had gone out to hunt for the Amazon before it found its next target, “You’re not the first guy I’ve been with. I do find you attractive. I just don’t … normally do this unless I’m dating someone. You know?”

“Oh, come on. It’s not that difficult to get a boner! Just think of someone you really like.”

“There isn’t one. I hardly meet a lot of people,” said Fukuda. That was true. He spent all day hunting for Amazons with the team; if he’d had a day off, which he never did, he would have spent it with his mother. It didn’t exactly leave him with time for a thriving social life.

“Can’t you think of anyone? Not even a celebrity or something?” said Kazuya.

“I don’t know.” Fukuda wasn’t familiar with pop culture either, and he rarely if ever watched TV or listened to music. All the idols he saw on billboards or magazine covers looked young enough to be his daughter.

“You’re just making excuses now,” said Kazuya, and gave a sharp little flick to Fukuda’s nipple. He didn’t seem to mind either way, because next minute he was climbing on Fukuda’s lap again, wrapping his arms around Fukuda’s neck and wriggling about - “OK, OK, forget that. Who’s the best sex you _ever_ had?”

That was easy, “Aya-chan. She was my high school sweetheart. The first girl I ever … you know.” Fukuda cleared his throat, unable to meet Kazuya’s eye for a moment. The first time hadn’t been great, but with practice, he and Aya had built something amazing together. He’d never experienced anything like it since. He wondered, sometimes, what might have happened had her wealthy parents not had someone else in mind for her. The thought made his throat feel tight and brought up the shadow of feelings he thought he’d left behind a long time ago. Fukuda did his best to put them aside. For now, he had to focus on Kazuya.

“Aahhhhh.” Kazuya grinned. “Was she up for it?”

“She was modest, polite, and ladylike,” said Fukuda. “You could probably learn a few things from her.” Aya had indeed been ‘up for’ certain things, when she and Fukuda knew each other well and trusted each other; but Kazuya didn’t need to know about that.

“OK, whatever. Can’t you just think about her?” said Kazuya.

Fukuda pushed his glasses up his nose. He suddenly felt no less awkward than when he’d first had sex with Aya, almost twenty years ago now, “It’s not quite the same. We were teenagers. She was so young and beautiful … and you’re a middle-aged man with a beard.”

“Who’re you calling middle-aged?” Kazuya thumped Fukuda in the shoulder, almost sending him sprawling, “What if I pretended to be her. Will that work?”

“We can try, I suppose,” said Fukuda, though he highly doubted it. “We need to take care of your – problem. Urgently. You heard what Kanou said. It’s putting your body under strain.” Up this close to Kazuya, Fukuda could see it. Kazuya’s eyes were unnaturally bright; his skin flushed. He was feeling warmer and warmer by the second. It wasn’t hard to imagine that his blood pressure must be very high by this stage.

“What did she call you?” said Kazuya.

“She called me Kouta-kun.” She’d had a few other nicknames for him too, none of which Fukuda would ever allow Kazuya to be privy to, “Just stick with Fuku. It’s fine.”

“OK.” Kazuya was silent for several moments, then he cleared his throat. “Oh, darling Fuku-chan! Take me! Take me like the heroines of your fancy European literature!” His falsetto was painful on the ears and his eyelashes resembled the mutant offspring of a thousand caterpillars as he tried to flutter them at Fukuda.

“She didn’t say that. And she didn’t sound like that,” said Fukuda. “She actually read European literature, for a start.”

“Gimme a break. I’m trying, ain’t I?” said Kazuya.

He pressed his lips against Fukuda’s, a little more softly than before. Fukuda put his hands on Kazuya’s shoulders, and felt the tension beneath them, Kazuya almost shuddering with the effort to restrain himself from everything he wanted to do. Feeling warmer towards Kazuya, Fukuda pulled him closer; holding him tightly and feeling Kazuya’s heart beat fast and erratic through his chest. Kazuya shifted and rolled so he could pull down Fukuda beside him.

“Fuku-chan,” he said, not in that dreadful imitation of a woman’s high tones, nor in the teasing lilt he usually took when he said it. This was his own voice but not Kazuya; it was sweeter, lighter, purer even and it made a memory stir somewhere inside Fukuda’s most private heart. Kazuya didn’t sound like Aya at all and he certainly didn’t look like her, but it was enough. Fukuda kissed him again and edged himself across on top of Kazuya, using his knee to separate Kazuya’s legs.

“Hey, it’s working!” Kazuya cackled and made another grab for Fukuda’s crotch.

Fukuda swatted his hand away, “Stop that.” It was ruining the mood, and they really needed to move ahead with this. He was close enough to see and feel what Kazuya’s body was going through. Fukuda would help him, fix this, make it all OK. Like it should have been in the first place. He adjusted his position just slightly enough that his clothed crotch was resting up against Kazuya’s very naked one.

“My balls are still kinda sore, just so you know,” Kazuya said.

“Can you go back to the whole –” Fukuda began.

“Oh. That. Right. Yeah.”

Kazuya gave a soft little moan, which sounded rather breathy and fake, but it was enough to maintain the ghost of an illusion. Fukuda closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself, sixteen years old again, up in his teenage bedroom with Aya. His mother worked long hours; so did Aya’s father; and her own mother thought that Aya was attending a cram school in the evening. They had at least a few hours until she was expected back, and in that time, they could fill an eternity.

Fukuda stroked his hands down her sides. Kazuya’s sides. Kazuya shuddered and pushed his hips up into Fukuda’s.

“Come on. Take those off.” Kazuya reached his hands inside Fukuda’s boxer shorts and pulled them down; leaning across to the side for a moment so that Fukuda had enough room to slip out of his underwear. Fukuda tossed the boxers onto the floor and returned his attentions to Kazuya. Both of their bodies were on full alert now, very much ready, but Fukuda liked foreplay. He liked holding and stroking and kissing and touching first. His fingers wandered over Kazuya’s skin, tangling in the hair at the base of Kazuya’s neck.

Kazuya opened his eyes, their gaze as full of mischief as ever despite the circumstances. “Gettin’ the full girlfriend experience, Fuku?”

“I’ve only ever done this when I was in a relationship,” said Fukuda, a little stung. It wasn’t _that_ boring and reactionary of him, surely? Not everyone could be Kazuya, who could charm so easily with his smile and casual wit, “I can’t just … perform on demand.”

“That’s why you gotta pretend I’m your cute little ex, huh? Beats me. I don’t know how to do all the slushy stuff. Don’t think I’ve ever had an LTR.”

Fukuda understood that. Kazuya might not have been a virgin, but in a way, this _was_ new to him. He could pick up new companions as easily as he changed his bedsheets; wake up beside a new person every morning, but not to one person who would love and treasure him more each time. He didn’t seem to have had the experience of making love. It had been almost two decades since Fukuda experienced that for the first time and yet the memory was clearer than ever, now. He wanted to show Kazuya what it could be like.

“Do you know if there’s any – um –” He gestured, and then felt silly, not being able to even remember the word immediately. It had been a while since he’d used it, after all.

“Any what?”

“You know. Slippery stuff,” said Fukuda.

“Oh! Lube. They had to use some when they tested the …” Kazuya giggled, “I’ll tell you about that another time. Over there.” He gestured towards the sink unit in the corner. Fukuda had to get up and fetch it, and then help Kazuya begin preparing himself. They didn’t have any condoms either. It briefly occurred to Fukuda that not using one might be risky, given the circumstances; but he’d just have to have himself tested when all was said and done. He had to face the consequences of his mistake. More than that, he wanted this now. He wanted Kazuya, as much as he’d once wanted Aya.

Kazuya was rubbing up against him, grinding, grabbing at Fukuda’s skin, dotting little kisses over any expanse of skin he could reach. “Don’t back out on me now, Fuku. I’m desperate! My balls are so blue they’re –”

“I think your balls have caused enough trouble for one day,” said Fukuda; and entered Kazuya with one smooth stroke.

 _This_ wasn’t quite like being with a high school girlfriend. Fukuda was experienced enough that he knew the difference in feeling with a male vs a female partner. He tried to take a moment to test his position, give Kazuya time to adjust; but Kazuya wasn’t having any of that. He was rocking himself up into Fukuda so hard that the trolley bed shook, moaning loudly enough that there might have been someone in the next town who hadn’t heard him yet.

“Relax,” Fukuda managed to say between shallow breaths. The words caught in his throat, lost somewhere between the pleasure of Kazuya’s tightness and the force of the rhythm of their bodies. He wanted to tell Kazuya that it was OK to let go, not to be constantly on show; to just surrender to the moment and the pleasure his body gave him. Since he wasn’t able to get all of this into a coherent sentence he instead tried to show it by leaning forward to give Kazuya a long, deep kiss. The change in their angle drove even louder noises from Kazuya’s throat.

Fukuda let himself relax against Kazuya’s increasingly frantic pace. He couldn’t slow the movement of Kazuya’s body, but he could soothe it, with more kisses and gentle hands tracing against Kazuya’s skin. It wasn’t long at all before he started to get close. He was just about reaching the edge of oblivion when he realised that something was smacking against his shoulder rather insistently.

“What?” Fukuda mumbled, dazedly swiping at Kazuya’s arm.

“You’re supposed to come _on_ me. Not _in_ me.”

Fukuda remembered almost too late, and pulled out just in time to come over Kazuya’s chest and stomach. He slumped heavily on top of Kazuya; enjoying the feel of Kazuya’s body reaching his own climax beneath.

“Gerroff,” said Kazuya, when both their breathing had returned to normal. He shoved at Fukuda, who obligingly shifted over so that Kazuya could sit up. Kazuya’s hair was a mess and his skin was flushed and he had semen all over his front. Just at that moment, Fukuda didn’t think he’d ever been more attracted to someone.

He gave Kazuya a little kiss, and Kazuya lazily returned it, “Hey, Fuku. Am I cured yet?”

“I don’t know,” said Fukuda. “How do you feel?” Kazuya _looked_ a little less flushed and feverished, certainly, but that might just be from him coming down from his orgasm.

“Terrible. You’re gonna have to fuck me at least two or three more times. You heard what Kanou said. It’s gotta go all over me.” Kazuya gave that smile of his, the one that Fukuda certainly wouldn’t have minded seeing next to him on the pillow each morning, “It’ll be a while before anyone gets back. That Amazon was pretty fast, you know.”

Fukuda knew. He was starting to fear for his own balls as much as Kazuya’s.


End file.
